


No Road Too Long

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Nine Lives [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA V, Fake AH Crew, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: The penthouse is lovely, and Trevor absolutely takes Geoff up on the offer of a room of his own on one of the lower floors of the building. But there’s still part of Trevor that likes the idea of having his own space away from the crew.





	No Road Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> [Becasue reasons, but different.](https://vagrantblvrd.tumblr.com/post/177433000286/watching-ydyd-again-and-trevor-yelling-about-his)

The penthouse is lovely, and Trevor absolutely takes Geoff up on the offer of a room of his own on one of the lower floors of the building. But there’s still part of Trevor that likes the idea of having his own space away from the crew. 

Old habits, or maybe there’s something about Los Santos that makes him uneasy about keeping all his eggs in one basket or however that particular saying goes.

He finds a quaint little apartment in a quaint little neighborhood with quaint little neighbors. One of which is a lovely older woman with blue-gray curls and mischievous glint in her eyes.

She knocks on his door when he’s unpacking, and when Trevor opens it she presses a plant in a little clay pot into his hands.

“Welcome to the building,” she says, smiling sweetly as she looks up at him. “I hope you like it here.”

Trevor doesn’t know a damn thing about plants other than the basics. He’s certain he’s going to kill the plant with its delicate little flowers within a week. Possibly less, if work gets hectic.

“Oh,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Amelia Baker,” she says, hand pressed to her chest. “I live just down the hall. If you have any questions about the building, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

That’s a remarkably generous offer, especially in a city like this. But then Trevor notices the way she’s _looking_ at him, the slight blush on her cheeks, and has to bite back a laugh. 

Not quite so grandmotherly after all, then.

“I appreciate it,” he says, and invites her in for coffee and cake from the bakery down the street because he’s not an animal. (The fact that he gets a quick rundown of building gossip and on-going scandals is just a bonus.)

========

“Ryan,” Trevor says, nudging a chilled can of diet soda towards the man. “I need your help.”

Ryan’s eyeing him warily, hand reaching for the can freezing halfway there at Trevor’s words.

In retrospect, waiting for the others to be out of the penthouse before approaching Ryan might be seen as suspect. 

“You want my help,” Ryan says, and this blatant distrust would be hurtful, if it wasn’t well deserved.

Trevor hasn’t been with the crew all that long at this stage of things, but it’s certainly been...eventful.

The others learning that their sweet little Alfredo isn’t quite the buttoned down model employee they thought he was. 

Ryan and Jeremy were the only ones to realize something was off with him when he came to work wth the crew, but they clearly hadn’t realized how tightly Alfredo kept himself contained in his service days.

They all seem to think it’s Trevor’s doing. That the real Alfredo shining through at long last is all down to Trevor’s influence when the plain truth of things is that he’s he’s responsible for twenty, possibly thirty percent of it. 

“What do you need help with?” Ryan asks, like a man making his way through a minefield. 

Always willing to help out a crew member, but smart enough to know if they come to him like this it’s bound to be trouble.

“I have this neighbor,” Trevor starts, thinks it might set Ryan more at ease, have the man less likely to bolt the moment he sees an opening. “Amelia. Sweet woman, really. Very kind.”

Ryan withdraws his hand, as though Trevor’s put him off his love of diet soda altogether.

“I’m not going to kill your neighbor,” he says flatly. “Take it up with your landlord if she’s playing her music too loud or whatever the hell she’s doing.”

Trevor - 

“ _Ryan_ ,” Trevor says, wondering which one of the others asked Ryan for that particular favor in the past. “No, no. I don’t want you to kill her. Wherever would I such in-depth updates about the latest scandal?”

Ryan frowns, eyes darting to the can of diet soda like he needs it to fortify himself for whatever favor he thinks Trevor’s asking for.

“No, see,” Trevor says, and reaches under the table for the box he brought to the penthouse. “She gave me this as a gift, and I’m worried I’m going to kill it.”

Ryan blinks, and Trevor opens the box to pull out the potted plant.

The tag tucked into the pot claims it’s a yellow kalanchoe, but the care instructions are missing, and anyway, Ryan’s a plant man. (Man who knows plants?)

“Uh.”

“I’ve never had a plant before,” Trevor says, and grimaces as he remembers the incident just after he met Alfredo. “That lived for long, anyway.”

Poor little Gerald the Geranium, he didn’t deserve what happened to him.

“Okay,” Ryan says, and decides this whole situation means he’s earned that diet soda as he picks the can up and pops the tab. “So first of all, maybe don’t put it in a box. Just saying.”

Trevor nods, because alright, yes. Not his best moment, but it’s been raining all week and he was concerned. Didn’t want to drown the poor thing before they’d gotten to know one another.

“No boxes for Karl, got it,” he says, eyebrow going up at the odd look Ryan gives him for his choice of names. 

As though he hasn’t given Gavin free reign to name the plants he brings to the penthouse. Choosing his battles and whatnot, or so he claims.

“Don’t you think he looks like a Karl?” 

“Sure,” Ryan says, and sighs as he pulls Karl closer to examine him. “Karl it is.”

========

“Karl, huh,” Alfredo says, staring down a potted plant as though it’s serious competition for Trevor’s affections.

Trevor is oddly invested in keeping Karl alive, though.

Absolutely does not make any parallels to the state of his relationship with Alfredo. The slow, careful rebuilding they’re working on because that’s a little too much to put on one small potted plant.

“Ryan says Karl’s a succulent,” Trevor says, and studies the supplies Ryan helped him get at a little garden shop he frequents. 

The owner had greeted Ryan like an old friend, happy to see him. Trevor watching on as they exchanged pleasantries and moved to discussing plants that were doing poorly and possible fixes.

Ryan had walked him through things, patiently explaining terms when Trevor asked. He’d even demonstrated how to give Karl a little trim by demonstrating on a sad little kalanchoe a customer had just returned.

The prospect of keeping Karl alive for any length of time is daunting, although Ryan assured him Karl was a good plant to start with. Hardier than Trevor thought and far more forgiving than other plants would have been. (No parallels at all.)

“Ryan,” Alfredo says, and he’s smiling at Trevor. Glad to know he’s getting along with the others, reaching out to them of his own initiative. (Especially Ryan with that reputation of his and their initial meeting.)

“Rumors say he’s a plant whisperer,” Trevor says, although said rumor is more of one of Gavin’s drunken ramblings. Spilling little secrets like that about the others as Trevor helped him to his room while Michael stumbled along beside them.

Alfredo laughs, because he knows the source of that rumor too.

Trevor feels warmth bloom in his chest because good God, does Alfredo look radiant when he laughs like that. Open and happy and so very _him_.

========

Geoff brings him jobs from time to time. 

Steal _this_ bit of information or _that_ shiny little bauble from someone who thinks no one would dare try such a thing when they have _connections_. 

Think they’re safe, untouchable, and Trevor right there to prove them wrong 

Geoff helps things along with his barbs and condescending little comments. Goading them into making mistakes. Convincing them after Trevor’s been to visit that Geoff’s security people would be glad to take a look at their security setups to see if they can be improved, for the right price. (Carefully laying the groundwork for future heists and other operations and a smug smile on his face the whole damned time.)

Alfredo’s there for most of it Trevor’s side of things. Watching Trevor’s back from a sniper’s nest or van parked down the street on the comms as he watches through the security camera feeds. 

In between jobs Trevor learns all about being a responsible plant-owner from Ryan. Spars with Alfredo who stopped taking it easy on him when he realized Trevor wasn’t quite the innocent civilian he thought he was. Goes along with Gavin’s terrible plans and gets to know the others, and sometimes - 

Sometimes he goes on dates with Alfredo, like normal human beings.

Go out to eat at a restaurant or diner and see a movie. A trip to Del Perro Pier and the booths there. Alfredo winning him outrageously large stuffed animal prizes he passes along to a young couple or kid eyeing it enviously, Alfredo grinning at him as he does. 

Take a moonlit stroll on the beach, hands brushing and relearning each other bit by bit along the way. 

“Oh,” Trevor says when he sees his front door is ajar. “Huh. That’s odd.”

Beside him Alfredo already has his gun out, eyes meeting his.

“You expecting anyone?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer to that question.

“No,” Trevor says, wishing he had his suit. His gadgets, his claws.

Alfredo’s lovely, but also very squishy. Human-shaped, and they’re in street clothes at the moment without so much as a piece of body armor between them.

“I know you don’t like them,” Alfredo says, and holds out his backup gun. “But better safe than sorry, right?”

It’s not that Trevor doesn’t like guns so much as they present added complications to his work he’d rather not deal with.

“Only for you,” he says, which is a damn lie, but Alfredo’s kind enough not to call him on it.

“Right, okay,” Alfredo says.

As always he’s the better tactician of the two of them, going over their plan of attack in his head, _but_.

This is Trevor’s home and he knows his way around it by heart, and Alfredo is still so very squishy and Trevor has hangups about getting him killed.

“I’ll be right back!” Trevor says brightly, and slips past him and through the open door before Alfredo can stop him.

It’s dark in his apartment, muted light coming through the curtain and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust. Cocking his head, he can hear movement deeper in the apartment. 

Footsteps and this low grumbling. Something being knocked over with a clatter.

Not a simple thief then, or at least not a good one, because they’re unbelievably clumsy. Trevor frowns as as he takes a step and feels something under his foot.

His heart sinks in his chest when he looks down because it’s _Karl_.

Knocked off the windowsill he usually sits on, pot broken and potting soil spilling out onto the carpet like blood in the dim light.

“Look out!”

Trevor ducks before he has time to process Alfredo’s warning. Movement at the corner of his eye and the glint of light on metal that shouldn’t be there.

A bullet whizzes past his ear and he’s running, running, _running_ , ducking behind the couch for cover as the intruder targets him.

Alfredo takes advantage of the idiot’s obliviousness and there are three decisive shots before Trevor hears the sound of a body hitting the ground. 

Peeking out of cover, he sees Alfredo kicking the intruder’s gun away from their outstretched hand.

“Fredo?”

Alfredo gives him a concerned look, but Trevor waves him off. Trevor’s safe and sound, not a bullet hole to be found, and goes with him to make sure his apartment's secured.

When they’re sure there aren’t any other intruders, Alfredo pulls out his phone and makes calls to get things rolling before the cops get involved.

Someone must have reported the gunshots, and this is one of the neighborhoods the police bother showing up to when they get calls of shots fired.

Trevor skirts around the body and goes back to where Karl is laying, small and broken.

The living room light comes up, and Trevor looks over to see Alfredo watching him.

“Hey,” Alfredo says, voice soft, careful. “You okay?”

Trevor laughs, because Karl is just a plant and he shouldn’t be this upset over things.

“They killed Karl,” he says, and laughs again because it sounds even more ridiculous out loud to be more concerned about a damn plant than the fact someone was trying to kill him (them?) moments before.

And really, people trying to kill him is old hat by now, but _Karl_.

Poor, defenseless Karl.

Alfredo frowns, tucking his gun away as he walks over.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “I mean, I’m no plant expert, but we can fix him, right?”

Trevor sighs, because he doesn’t know. He’s never kept a plant alive as long as he has with Karl. Didn’t expect to manage it as long as he has, either.

“Sure,” he says, “I mean. It’s a plant, right?”

Alfredo’s giving him an odd look, but before he can say anything there’s an authoritative pounding on his door and an unfamiliar voice reciting what must be some kind of code.

“That’s one of ours,” Alfredo says, note of relief in his voice. “They’ll take care of things.”

Trevor watches as Alfredo goes to open the door and a pair of figures in police uniforms walk in trailed by a team of people Trevor vaguely recognizes. Members of B-team, and the cops talk to Alfredo as the others get to work.

========

Karl’s doesn’t quite go on life support, but he’s a bit sickly for a while there. (Roots exposed to the air for too long or some other bit of nonsense Ryan tells him.)

Trevor's more interested in the fact that the intruder had been sent to kill him. That Alfredo would have been collateral damage if he hadn’t killed the intruder first and all the lovely little implications that go along with that knowledge. 

Some old target of Trevor’s, and a grudge years in the making. 

A wonderfully creative reminder that he needs to be more careful.

He’s staying in the room Geoff had set up for him here, not really keen on putting his neighbors – dear, sweet Amelia most of all – at risk with his presence for the time being.

“Hey,” Alfredo says, sounding bright and cheerful, so very perky. “I got a present for you.”

Trevor raises an eyebrow at that.

“Why, Fredo, it isn’t even my birthday!”

Alfredo chuckles as he sets a prettily wrapped box down in front of him. Sparkly ribbon tied into a bow and, goodness, it really is all fancied up, isn’t it.

Trevor slides Alfredo a look, and of course all he gets back is one of his grins. 

This little bounce to him as he drops into the chair next to him where Trevor was working out the kinks for the latest job Geoff’s got him on.

“It’s not another glitter bomb, is it?”

Gavin and Michael and Jeremy, with Ryan lurking at the corners as though he’s not as awful as the three of them combined. (Hints of Jack, because he’s sneakier than all of them, and Geoff staying away from all of it because he’s a smart man.)

“Uh, no?” Alfredo says and shrugs.

“Right,” Trevor sighs, like he hasn’t been finding glitter in unmentionable places for weeks now. 

He tugs on one end of the bow to unravel it, and lifts the lid off delicately as he would if he was defusing a bomb. 

No glitter so far, but there’s a layer of tissue paper between him and the contents of the box, and who knows what’s under it. (Mysterious, indeed.)

“I swear, Alfredo, if this is another trick - “

Oh.

_Oh._

Alfredo fidgets as Trevor places the tissue paper to one side and carefully reaches into the box.

It’s - 

It’s Karl’s old pot, painstakingly pieced back together again. Jagged fault lines filled with lines of gold to form a new whole, and all the more beautiful – precious - for it.

“I, uh,” Alfredo says, nervous and awkward and _shy_. “Lindsay told me about it, you know? Told me about this guy who takes commissions, and I was like. I couldn’t find all the pieces, but - “

“Shut up, Fredo,” Trevor says, little shake to his voice, _because_.

Trevor knows what he’s talking about, this. Read about it somewhere for some reason, maybe a late night spent trawling Wikipedia when he couldn’t sleep, his mind running in circles. 

There’s this sharp little pain in Trevor’s chest because Karl's just a plant, pretty as he is.

Silly little thing Trevor became oddly invested in, as though he had no idea _why_ , and his carelessness almost got him killed. 

Trevor knows he has enemies out there, people who be delighted to see him dead, and there’s every chance they know he’s back at work again. That word would reach them, draw them out eventually and he’d still been caught by surprise when it happened.

Trevor sets the pot – work of art – down gently and stares and stares and stares at it.

“I mean.” Alfredo says, because he just can’t not, it seems. “Ryan said it would be a while before you need to get Karl a bigger pot, so I figured - “

Trevor snaps, because Alfredo still sounds worried. Like his gift is a stupid gesture on his part, that Trevor would ever think of rejecting it.

“Trevor?”

“You are an idiot,” Trevor says, and kisses him, because dear God, Alfredo isn’t the only idiot in the room, is he?

Trevor and this obsession over a plant when Alfredo’s right there. Has been right there, both of them moving in the right direction all this time. 

Slowly, carefully piecing this thing between them back together. Regret for the pieces that didn’t fit any longer, and filling in the cracks as they go.

Alfredo freezes, and then he’s kissing back, hand curling around the back of Trevor's neck, fingers sliding into his hair - 

And then Alfredo pulls back, frown on his face.

“Okay, but,” he says. “If you don’t like it, that’s cool too. I can get him a new pot or something?”

Good God, Trevor loves this idiot so much.

“It’s perfect, Fredo,” he says, laughter bubbling up because it’s the honest truth and he’s never been happier for it. “Absolutely perfect.”


End file.
